


Suspicions

by Sliceofmooncake (Aesoteric)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesoteric/pseuds/Sliceofmooncake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post "Wicked Hearts and Wicked Eyes" Solavellan fluff. Spoilers for in-game choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suspicions

**Author's Note:**

> This is what comes of trying to be best friends with everyone in the Inquisition.

“I didn’t see you at the ball.”

Solas looked up from a stone tablet, a finger holding his place in his translation.

“You were able to find me easily enough before. I remained in much the same place.”

“I meant after Celene and Briala were reunited. I went looking for you.” Ellana leaned one hip against the table.

“Oh?”

“I thought we might have a celebratory dance.” Her voice tipped up at the end teasingly and he laughed.

“What, the Herald of Andraste and her serving man on the dancefloor together? Shocking.”

“The serving man bit was your idea, not mine.” She slid fully onto the desk until he was forced to clear his work away in self-defense. “And that’s not nearly a good enough excuse. A Marquise brought her groundskeeper and danced with him all evening. So, unless you simply do not care for dancing…?” Ellana let the words trail off with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m very fond of dancing.” He tapped his pen on the table and detested the display of nerves. “I had intended to ask you, but I discovered you on the balcony with Josephine and did not wish to interrupt.”

“It wasn’t that important a talk. She was congratulating me on not having started a war by using the wrong salad fork.” She stared at him and her eyes widened with delight. “Solas? Were you jealous?”

Solas made a noise of disgust and stood up, maneuvering around her legs easily and walking away. There was a copy of a traveler’s journal that mentioned something like the Arbor Wilds, if he could just lay his hands on it.

“Josephine, of all people--”

“You have made no secret of cultivating her friendship.” He dug through the piles on his desk briefly and then went to investigate the bookshelves allotted him.

“I’ve taken pains to cultivate everyone’s friendship, if you haven’t noticed. Do you really think I like that awful swill Iron Bull drinks? Or that I enjoy listening to Vivienne hold forth on on how I need to present myself more effectively?”

“Does she really?”

“There were fabric swatches last time I visited. Fabric. Swatches.” She drummed her heels lightly against the desk. “But to the point: I do not harbor romantic feelings towards Josephine or anyone else.”

Perhaps the journal had been something he’d only wished he’d had. He paused and looked back at her. 

“Blackwall?”

“No.”

“Cole?”

“No!”

“Cassandra?” He drew the name out and circled back around to where Ellana was fairly vibrating with suppressed laughter. When he got close enough to stand between her legs she leaned forward and whispered in his ear,

“I do want her…” She pulled back to look him in the eye. “...for the Divine.” 

“Ahh, I see.” She was using the calluses on her hands to wonderful effect against the base of his ears.

“Besides the fact that I like her, we are going to need more allies in the Chantry and I think she’s uniquely qualified for the job.”

“So this is all... politics.” His hands slid from her waist down to her hips and she squirmed just a little.

“Politics,” she agreed, her breath dancing over his lips. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Not nearly.”

They managed to smear his translation beyond all recognition.


End file.
